Cafe Tombstone
by Cradlerobber Speedo-kun
Summary: When Dylan suddenly dies, Marco and Tom are left to pick up the pieces. MarcoxDylan, one-sided TomxDylan, and mild MarcoxTom.


A/N: I know a lot of people aren't gonna like this. I feel slightly bad for killing off Dylan, but it had to be done, sorry darlings. Oh well. I felt like writing something not related to Less Than Zero, and I've had this bouncing around my head for a few days, so here it is. Takes place one or two years after 'It's Raining Men'.

Café Tombstone

_By Cradlerobber Speedo-kun_

'_Another day in the life..._' Thought Marco Del Rossi as he stared up at a brighter patch of the steel grey sky. _'Well, another day in the new life, actually...'_ New life. One without Dylan. Because Dylan was gone. He let his eyelids fall shut, and in his mind's eye caught a glimpse of a smiling, hockey-gear clad Dylan, not the unmoving, colorless Dylan of the wake. Tears welled up against the backs of his eyes, but he kept his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. He could make it, he knew he could. He just couldn't cry, because if he did... then it was all over.

When he opened his eyes, the urge to cry was gone, replaced by a feeling of isolation from the entire world, from his own emotions. Most everyone else had gone home, even the Michaelchuks. Paige and Spinner had stayed a little longer than Dylan and Paige's parents, and had left only recently. They had cried together, and brought on a new feeling of loss to Marco. There was something intimate about crying with the person you love, and he'd never have that experience with Dylan. Dylan was gone. He'd have to cry alone. So he didn't cry.

Ellie was still there. He couldn't see her, but somehow he could sense she hadn't left. They were a perfect match, except that he was gay, and she now loved Sean. So instead they were perfect friends. And he could tell when she was there and when she wasn't, even if he didn't know how. He had never asked if it was the same with her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Ellie. The shoulder of her blouse was damp, as she had allowed Paige to cry on her shoulder when Paige first broke down and Spinner wasn't close enough to provide his shoulder. "I have to leave now." She said quietly. He understood, she had to make sure her mother was safe. The mother that had failed her, yet Ellie never failed the woman. It was a bitterly one-sided relationship.

"I'll just stay... a little longer." His voice felt strained, as if he was trying to shout underwater. Ellie nodded, and hugged him, and then she was gone like morning mist burnt off by the approaching sun. Everyone was gone now. He was alone. He stepped forwards, closer to the headstone, and then he realized he wasn't alone. Tom was there, red-rimmed eyes and all. He had been quietly crying throughout the entire funeral. It was hard for him to realize that he was to be eternally unrequited.

Marco went towards him, and he wasn't sure why. But now he was there, next to Tom who was still silently crying and mourning. He blinked at Marco in a semi-shocked manner, before crumpling onto the other boy, "I was always jealous of you." Marco awkwardly attempted to comfort him as Tom sobbed into his shoulder, "I... understand..."

And before he knew it, Marco was suggesting that they go somewhere, out of the rain that had finally broken upon them after holding off through the entire funeral. And Tom was managing to stop crying and give a pitiful sounding yes, and the two were in a car, Marco driving as they silently trundled towards an unsure destination.

Tom bought them coffee at the deserted and sad-looking café. There was a lone server, a worn looking man approaching middle age, and even the coffee seemed old and tired. Marco absentmindedly mixed cream into his coffee, as Tom gulped down mouthfuls of it black. He looked up at the sound of Tom letting the cup clatter onto the counter, emptied of it's contents. Tom sighed, "He was the only guy I've ever liked. Even four years later, it's still him. I guess I'm Dylansexual, not homosexual." The man at the counter showed the faintest sign of life at this, seemingly jumping slightly and giving a look of mild suprise. But then he faded back into his same tired state, and ceased to move once again.

"I was jealous of you, maybe even more now because you had him and now I never can... But I was always happy for him, too. He really loved you, and I could live that way, even if it meant he didn't like me as much as I liked him. He was very happy. I could live if he stayed my friend and would smile at me sometimes." Tom fiddled with his coffee cup now, avoiding Marco's gaze. Marco let his eyes fall to the coffee cup in Tom's hands, "He was the only guy I ever loved, too. He helped me come out to my parents. He helped me when I came out to my friends... even if I was trying to push him away..."

He would've liked that time back. The time he had spent avoiding and ignoring Dylan. But it was gone, along with Dylan. The past was dead time. It was time's death. Dylan occupied dead time now, because he, too, was dead. And just like dead time, you can't touch a dead person (1).

"We found out we were gay together." Tom said awkwardly, the coffee cup still clattering between his hands. "We were both in 9th grade... We were friends, and we were, well, experimenting. We were curious. We had sex, and he realized he was gay, and I realized I was completely head over heels for him. It was unfortunate for me, as he wasn't interested in me in that manner..." He suddenly blushed, and ducked his head, "I'm sorry, I'm sure you didn't want to hear all that..."

"No... I understand. When I first met him my girlfriend of the time rebuffed me in front of my friends, because she thought we had broken up since she didn't want to be my cover any longer. I walked away, needed to be alone, but he came and sat with me, didn't say anything, but just him being there helped. And after I got bashed by some homophobes, he tried to help me, be there. But I pushed him away..." Marco's voice faded away, ending on a remorseful note. "And now," He said with a sigh, "Now he's gone, and I'd give anything to have that time back, to do it over."

"I wish I had died in his place." Tom said suddenly, dully. Marco's eyes widened in a slight horror, "Don't say something like that." Tom shook his head, and turned the coffee cup upside down, "No... I mean it. Because then it'd be you and he here, not you and me, and you'd have each other. It'd be better that way. We barely even know each other... Our only connection was that we both loved Dylan so much it hurt sometimes."

"Don't wish yourself dead." Marco's hand closed over Tom's, "Appreciate that you're still here. We can't change anything about the past, and if we wish ourselves dead... then we're just dishonoring Dylan." (2) Tom looked up at Marco, who's face was still melancholy, but in who's eyes held a warm, dead serious sort of light. He really did mean it, was not succumbing to the easy path of human temptation that would agree with Tom's wish, that would want Dylan here for himself and have Tom be the one six feet beneath the chilly dirt of the cemetery.

"Yes... I... yes, you're right." Tom said, looking down at the hand covering his own. He shifted his gaze, looking up at Marco, "We can pick up the pieces. We can pick up the pieces together." Marco looked back at him, "Yeah... together..."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(1) I hope you can understand I mean touch in a mental sense, not a physical sense.

(2) I know Marco might seem a little OOC, but considering that he's a little older now and that the guy he was in love with just died, it makes sense.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I probably have to flee MarcoxDylan fans right now.

This MarcoxTom slashfic was brought to you by the Department of Unlikely/Bizarre Degrassi Slash Pairings.


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